


Early Decision

by FreeGratis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Sexual Tension, Tony Stark makes bad decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22592119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeGratis/pseuds/FreeGratis
Summary: Yeah, he wished his problem was having trouble seeing Peter Parker as his own person.  He wished this came down to him overplaying the dad card.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Early Decision

When it came to Peter’s college plans, Tony had rallied _hard_ behind MIT. A custom-made suit in MIT black and cardinal red, with all kinds of nifty extras, might have been involved.

“Come on, kid, you’re practically a legacy.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Mr. Stark.”

No, it wasn’t. Besides, with a kid as smart as Peter, none of that mattered anyway: any college would greenlight his application the moment it landed on their digital doorstep, and they’d throw scholarship money at him until he was buried in it. It didn’t matter either way.

He’d just liked the idea of the kid following in his footsteps. Tony had caused enough PR fuck-ups by now to know how they were fixed; he could grasp the concept of selling a good narrative. Peter going to MIT? That was good. That fit. It was what would happen in a universe where the only way he was falling short as a mentor was trying to box Peter into being a second him. If they made that movie, the arc would be clear: he was supposed to lighten up, realize the kid had to live out his own dreams. Roll credits.

Yeah, he wished his problem was having trouble seeing Peter Parker as his own person. He wished this came down to him overplaying the dad card.

And, all of that not being even close to the truth, he wished he really didn’t have a heart—and wouldn’t that make everybody happy?—and he could turn down the kid’s request to grab a private dinner, just the two of them, before Peter headed out to California.

“Because I’ll be all the way across the country, Mr. Stark.”

“And that would be a problem if I didn’t have, oh, a private jet, a private metal suit capable of outpacing the jet, and ground-floor access to any developing teleportation technology. Have another farewell dinner with your friends.”

“But I want to have dinner with you,” Peter had said. “Besides, you can get us into way better restaurants.”

He was powerless to resist Peter’s earnestness, which wasn’t like anything else he’d ever had in his life, which always felt like a light that would send all the bad parts of Tony’s soul skittering away. (As opposed to, say, a light that only made the shadows in his head more apparent than ever. Which would be the other way of looking at.)

So he’d booked out a Thai restaurant for the night, deploying one of the automated suits uptown to distract the paparazzi.

Peter had dressed up, in the high school sense of the word where Tony just knew, looking at him, that May the Wonder Aunt had tied his tie, where his face was glowing from a fresh and probably unnecessary shave. He looked good. He always did.

Peter held up the end of his tie. “Stanford colors.”

“You figured you’d rub in your total refusal to follow my advice.”

“Actually, no, it was just the only clean tie I had. I spilled something caustic on the other one.” He unselfconsciously reached out and ran his finger along the little bowl of plum sauce in the center of the table, catching a stray drop on the edge and licking it off his finger. Pink crept into his cheeks, and he spoke down towards the tabletop. “I shouldn’t have said that, though, right? I want—Mr. Stark, you’ve got to start seeing me as an adult.”

Don’t encourage me.

Tony said, “Hey, it’s not like I said you had to order off the kid’s menu.”

“Man, can you imagine trying that in a place this nice? ‘Hi, I know you’re an upscale Thai restaurant, but I’d like mini corndogs or a plain grilled cheese’?”

“I am in fact ninety percent sure I once tried to order a Whopper from the Four Seasons.”

“I’m early decision,” Peter said, stubbornly getting back to his actual topic, ignoring the wealth of drunken hijinks they could be talking about instead. “If I get to figure out right now where I’m going to spend the next few years of my life, if I get to make a decision that’s going to totally reshape my future—I just want you to… to _get_ what that means to me.”

He met Tony’s eyes. Under the table, his foot brushed against Tony’s and stayed there.

All right. He hadn’t been half as subtle and responsible about all of this as he’d thought.

He could straighten up, sit back, and shake his head. He could even pretend—coward’s way out, but better than nothing—that he didn’t have the first clue what Peter was talking about, that a little bit of incidental physical contact wasn’t even a blip on his radar, that he hadn’t noticed a damn thing.

But—

But he’d done a lot of things at seventeen, hadn’t he? He understood what Peter was getting at.

And this was Peter Parker, the best, smartest, and most beautiful person Tony had ever met, who’d been taking on adult responsibilities since he was fourteen—not just privileges, not just opportunities, which was what Tony had grabbed up at his age. Maybe he should trust Peter’s judgement over his own.

“Early decision,” Tony said. He let himself really look at Peter, let himself soak in everything he’d been pretending not to notice.

Peter nodded. “Early decision.” He looked sure of himself, and then—a second later—a little less so. He slid something across the table, hidden underneath his palm. “You gave me the graduation money. I used some of it to get a room at the place across the street.” He lifted his hand, showing an onyx-black, MIT-black, hotel key-card.

Tony picked it up. It was still warm from Peter’s hand.

This was everything he’d wanted, and he was going to regret taking it. But he could see the night laid out ahead of them, in a way that would make them both happy, and he knew he’d already made up his mind.


End file.
